Why we need pride

In my head, the phrase is said scornfully by a ‘little old church lady’, “Don’t be prideful.” Usually with the intent of ‘putting someone in their place,’ or knocking them down a notch. I don’t know if men hear it, because I’m not one, but I’ve been on the receiving end as a female. Or, if not those exact words, the sentiment that one better not let their head swell with pride. But why not? Why has our culture, particularly what I’ll loosely call ‘church culture’ steered us away from having pride? Certainly, references abound in the Bible of pride leading to a person’s downfall. That would give you pause. Fundamentally though, shouldn’t we all have a sense of pride?

What is pride?

I think pride has a bad rap. It’s as though we see it as a gateway drug to a personal downfall. My programming, primarily a result of a woman’s perceived ‘place’ has led to pride being pushed way, way down. The other night, I was at a rare dinner with work colleagues. Out of the blue, I found myself being praised for a work problem I’d helped successful navigate. Did I shine? What do you think? No. I brushed it off as no big deal and downplayed my role. Unfortunately, I see women taking a similar stance over and over.

Consider the definition of pride. My trusty go-to Meriam Webster states:

  1. a feeling of deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from one’s own achievements, the achievements of those with whom one is closely associated, or from qualities or possessions that are widely admired.
  2. consciousness of one’s own dignity.

 

Neither definition is negative. Why shouldn’t you be proud of an accomplishment, an award, a milestone? Honestly, why shouldn’t you have pride about who you are, about your own dignity? And yet, people are told to keep themselves buttoned up. Not to let too much of what’s on the inside leak out and into the light. We are told to let others shine. This recurrent message we receive is not benign. There’s a consequence.

How pushing our pride aside shows up

When we repeatedly take in the message that we shouldn’t be prideful or have pride, what do you suppose the translation is for any normal human person? Something about you is bad. To be hidden. Don’t allow people to see the ‘real’ you lest you be rejected. The result? Shame. Brené Brown provides a definition of shame I find instructive.

“The intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging.” It is “the fear that something we’ve done or failed to do…makes us unworthy of connection.”

It’s no wonder millions of women, and men for that matter – because shame does not discriminate – suffer under the weight of shame. Perpetuated upon them by systems which use shame to control the people under them. In the recently published book You are your best thing, an anthology of Black voices speaking to vulnerability, shame and the Black experience, embodiment teacher and founder of the Embodiment Institute (TEI) Prentis Hemphill shared “Shame is also the way oppression gets internalized.”

When I read those words, I had to return and reread them. More than once. Because the words, they speak to the Black experience, certainly. Pride pushed down, pushed aside, drilling into people that they do not have the right to personal dignity. They are ‘less than.’ All lies, all tools of control. But also, because they speak broadly to the stripping of pride from groups of people whose only flaw is that they are different.

We need to celebrate Pride

From June 28, 1969 to July 3, 1967, when I wasn’t yet 2 years old, people protested outside the Stonewall Inn, a gay bar in Greenwich Village. In what became a rebellion, the Stonewall Riots, the rioters advocated for gay rights. And because of their uprising, President Clinton began celebrating June first as Gay and Lesbian Pride month, which later became LGBTQ Pride month. I find it interesting that Pride is the term chosen to characterize this month because, at the core, that’s what’s needed. Celebration and a raising of consciousness in the dignity of LGTBQIA+ people.

Because these people, these human people, have been told they should have the exact opposite of pride. That the way they were designed by God is wrong. They’ve been shamed by our culture because of who they love. Denied rights and benefits, healthcare, decency…and sadly, that continues today. Instead, we should love, affirm, and celebrate the dignity of those in the LGTBQIA+ community. For that matter, we should be doing the same for those in the BIPOC community.

Pride is not the enemy

Maybe we should be rethinking how we characterize pride. Because pride is not the enemy, shame is. When you, or me, or any person believes they are ‘deeply flawed’ and unworthy of love and belonging, there’s a problem. And the structures that perpetuate shame as a tool to oppress those who are different? Different because of the color of their skin, their sex, who they love? We need to dismantle and rebuild those structures. And if you think shame is not used as a power tool, I ask you to simply listen and watch. To the words used by those in power, to the choices made by our systems, to the underlying messages that tell people they cannot show up in dignity, celebrate who they are, without consequence.

Be Prideful. Be conscious of and celebrate your dignity as a human being. Because you have qualities and characteristics that deserve to be celebrated. Because you are loved. Be Brave my loves. Lisa

 

 

 

 

Why creativity within faith can be challenging

As certainly as the sun will rise in the east, it is known that fall leads to winter, followed by spring and finally summer. These things we know. We may compare the seasons to one another, but we know that each has its gifts. And with each, we also experience change. We are currently transitioning from spring into summer. The Summer Solstice.

Also happening in June

June has also become known as Pride month. The annual celebration of the 1969 Stonewall Riots in New York City.  It’s a time to commemorate the impact the LGBT+ community has had on the world. Just this week, the Supreme Court of the United States ruled that the 1964 Civil Rights Act protects LGBT+ individuals from discrimination ‘based on sex’ in the workplace. A significant victory and step forward for our country and for people who have been unfairly discriminated against for how they were born and who they love.

I could easily continue about the countless other serious, unjust, issues within the United States at this time, but those will be the subject of another blog, another day. I still have much interior work to be done on those matters. On the issue of LGBT+ and change, I have done significant work on many levels. Which circles back to the challenges of creativity within faith.

Getting to the point

Raised a Christian, I’ve attended church my entire life. Sitting in the pews, listening, not questioning. Ok, maybe not entirely listening, and yes, women submit to your husbands I may have questioned when I was a high-minded college student. But generally, I honestly didn’t think to much about it one way or another. Church, what was preached, it was. I didn’t think about the believing part, it was. There was no question of any other options.

For many people, that’s the way it is. You don’t think about. The teaching is that the Word is without error, so you do not question it. As you grow, you’re taught to read, to understand, to bring it into your heart, and I did. But you guys, there was stuff that began to not make sense to me. When you start to wonder if it could be different, if there’s another way to look at it, those questions can be scary.

Questions more than comparison

Asking questions within Bible study, at least the ones I was part of, for example…whoa, whoa, slow down. It was as though I was comparing what the Bible said to a three headed dog rather than asking what I thought were interesting questions. Or, told I was being disrespectful. So, I stopped asking.

That scariness feels like you’re on the outside. It feels as though if you’re not with us, you’re against us. Scary because it feels like judgement. And that? That feels like shame.

And not asking, accepting, that’s ok for the vast majority of people. It is. But it wasn’t for me. I had people within my life, my own flesh and blood, who are gay. Nowhere within my heart could I believe that, as written, God did not love flesh of my flesh. I could not. Yes, it was my gut. And yes, there were those who told me the Bible was clear. But that’s not what my heart told me. I could not understand that when those words were written 2000+ years ago, there was even a remote consideration of future circumstances and ongoing human evolution.

How to be creative within faith

Being creative within faith feels like you’re out on a bit of a limb. I cannot lie about that. Am I making stuff up? Absolutely not. I have consulted with pastors. I have read books, articles, listened to podcasts, followed websites. Talked to more pastors. Honestly, I continue to go to church, albeit one that is affirming of LGBT+ people because and would not, cannot do otherwise. But it took creativity, and not allowing the comparison from others, which is really a form of judgment, to stop me, to overshadow the work I was doing. Creativity in the examination of what I believe. It was an internal inspection, undertaken because it was too important not to.

And you may or may not agree with what I believe. That’s ok too. Our relationship with Jesus, with His love, which is intended for every single person is personal. We feel it, we take it in, we share it with others. How we do it? It’s up to us. No longer do I search the drawer for the cookie cutter. And tomorrow, it’s Sunday, and though I will watch the church I love celebrate ALL online, I will also go outside, in nature, where I believe Jesus will be with me, celebrating the change of seasons and the Summer Solstice.

Be Brave friends. Lisa